Draco doesn't appear in classes until late on Thursday morning when the Slytherins and Gryffindors are halfway through double Potions. He swaggers into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in my opinion, as though he is the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.
"How is it, Draco?" simpers Pansy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?"
"Yeah," says Draco, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But I see him wink at Vincent and Gregory when Pansy has looked away. That little cheek. Flirting with Pansy right in front of me! He hasn't even so much as glanced my way!
"Settle down, settle down," says Professor Snape idly.
Harry, Ron and Danny scowl at each other; Snape wouldn't have said settle down if they walked in late, he'd give them detention. But Draco has always been able to get away with anything in Snape's classes apparently; Snape is Head of Slytherin house, and generally favours his own students before all others.
We are making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Draco sets his cauldron right next to Harry, Ron and Danny, so that we are preparing our ingredients on the same table. Nice of him to think of me. Not.
"Sir," Draco calls, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm-"
"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," says Snape, without looking up.
Ron goes brick red.
"There's nothing wrong with your arm," he hisses at Draco.
Draco smirks across the table. The corners of my mouth tilt upwards slightly. What? It's kind of funny.
"Weasley, you heard Professor Snape, cut up these roots."
Ron seizes his knife, pulls Draco's roots towards him and begins to chop them roughly, so that they are all different sizes.
"Professor," drawls Draco. "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."
Snape approaches their table, stares down his hooked nose at the roots, then gives Ron an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.
"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."
"But sir-!"
Ron has spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal pieces.
"Now," says Snape in his most dangerous voice.
Ron shoves his own beautifully cut roots across the table at Draco, then takes up the knife again.
"And, sir, I'll need this Shrivelfig skinned," says Draco, his voice full of malicious laughter. Despite the situation, I can't help but smile at his tactics. It is a bit funny.
"Potter, Mr Rivera, you can skin Malfoy's Shrivelfig," says Snape, giving Harry and Danny the looks of loathing he always reserves just for them. Yes, even Danny, we have discovered.
Harry and Danny take Draco's Shrivelfig as Ron sets about trying to repair the damage to the roots he now has to use. Harry and Danny skin the Shrivelfig fast between them and fling it back across the table at Draco without speaking. Draco is smirking more broadly than ever. I let out a snort of laughter. Fay and Hermione give me warning looks.
Draco asks them something quietly.
Ron says something jerkily, without looking up.
Draco says something that I hear as a tone of mock sorrow.
Ron snarls something back.
Draco says something and gives a huge, fake sigh.
Harry says something in anger, both he and Danny beheading dead caterpillars because their hands are shaking in anger.
YOU ARE READING
Dawn Rivera
Fanfiction"One is the lock, one is the key, one is the sacrifice the world shall shall grieve." Dawn has wanted to go to Hogwarts ever since she was a little girl, and nothing her older sister Gertrude says will discourage her. Little does she know that the m...
